How To Spoil A Party
by girl in the glen
Summary: When is it okay to ruin someone's day? Written for PicFic Tuesday on Section VII.


Theodore Stanislavsky felt confident that he would soon be promoted to a position within the Central Committee. As he stared into the computer screen and the image it portrayed, the genius of his work compelled a sense of accomplishment and security unlike anything in his previous experience. THRUSH would reward him, of that he had no doubt, and the party he would give himself would be one to remember.

Breaking into the computerized records of the U.N.C.L.E. had been an arduous task, one not easily accomplished and certainly within the talents of only a few people. The technology was new and the devices so uncommon as to be a complete mystery to most of the civilized world. Government agencies and organizations such as his own and the hated do-gooders in Alexander Waverly's little army were among the few who had access to such sophisticated systems. Stanislavsky was one of an even more elite group of technicians who understood and manipulated the complex world of computers.

THRUSH led the way with its Ultimate Computer, and in spite of UNCLE's attempts to destroy it, the Hierarchy still maintained that precious commodity of information and engineering. Stanislavsky himself had been instrumental in designing it, and now he had broken into the inferior UNCLE system. Yes, he would be honored and rewarded.

In New York's UNCLE Headquarters, Illya Kuryakin sat at the keyboard of an advanced model of the most recent computer terminal. Napoleon Solo was hovering over the blond's shoulder, not understanding all that his partner was doing but confident that whatever it was would be correct. Two other technicians were in the room with them, all eyes glued to the screen as Kuryakin typed in a series of codes and misinformation; they had discovered the breach in their own system and recognized the source: THRUSH.

"So, is this going to be enough to offset what they found earlier?" Napoleon didn't have the depth of computer knowledge that his partner possessed, preferred to let the Russian handle this type of thing. There was strategy, and then there was implementation. He didn't object to being the strategist.

"THRUSH was able to access some marginal information from the files before we discovered the intrusion. What they are receiving now will turn their own system into a trash receptacle, nothing more. This may be the best way to destroy the Ultimate Computer, almost like exposing a human being to germs. I suppose you could call it a virus." Solo had an image of the machine wheezing and in need of a handkerchief.

"You're giving it a cold? I don't get it."

The two technicians smiled at the reference to a virus. Leave it to the Russian agent to come up with something that diabolical. Secretly they both approved.

"Yes, I suppose you could call it that. The series of codes they are getting from us will corrupt their own files, thereby disabling many of the functions in their system. The Ultimate Computer may recover, but it will take hours of searching and re-programming in order to make the corrections. THRUSH will be, in effect, disabled in regards to their computerized channels.' Illya hit the ENTER key with a flourish and watched as the screen erupted into something like fireworks; his own personal touch.

"It is done, my friends. Say 'goodbye' to the Ultimate Computer."

A round of congratulatory words were handed out all around as the doors to the room swished open to admit Alexander Waverly. He caught the general mood and assumed that his team had successfully turned away this latest threat.

"Ah, gentlemen, am I to take it that all is well?" He allowed a small smile to spark the craggy features. There was still some enjoyment in toppling the enemy. Napoleon was happy to share the good news.

"Yes sir, Illya has just sent the final nail into what we hope is the coffin of the Ultimate Computer. With any luck, it will expire shortly." Waverly's eyebrows shot up in mock surprise. Of course this is what he had expected, had hoped for.

"Very well, very well. I expect a report on my desk this afternoon with some follow-up to whatever we can ascertain from THRUSH communications regarding the, uh... Ultimate Computer's demise. Carry on, and... good work." With that the head of UNCLE turned and was gone, the swish of the pneumatic doors once again signaling departure.

On the other side of the world, Theodore Stanislovsky felt a surge of terror as he watched his screen erupt with what looked like fireworks. He had never seen anything like it, but the sense of foreboding that accompanied the images were the last phase of what he recognized as his doom. UNCLE had outwitted them... outwitted him. He took it personally and knew that THRUSH would as well.

There was a quiet sense of celebration among those in the know with UNCLE. At least for now the Ultimate Computer was defunct, its usefulness to THRUSH months away at best. Now it was up to the computer divisions within UNCLE to come up with something better before a new battle was waged. This technology would change the world someday, and for now it might just give the good guys an advantage.

For Theodore Stanislovsky, that change was something he would never see; his party was cancelled.


End file.
